


Night Stories

by MirabilisMage



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Eldritch Moon, F/M, Innistrad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-02 10:29:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 7,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10942638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirabilisMage/pseuds/MirabilisMage
Summary: Innistrad is safe. The Gatewatch convenes at Vess Manor to decide what to do next.





	1. 1.

**Author's Note:**

> I often have trouble sleeping. After "Eldritch Moon," I started telling myself little stories at night to help fall asleep. I liked the idea of the Gatewatch just kicking around Liliana's house, and I definitely laughed when that's sort of what happened in the first "Kaladesh" story (only everyone was at Jace's house on Ravnica). 
> 
> And by "kicking around Liliana's house," I mean, of course, late night conversations, heartfelt revelations, and sex.

The blood was drying on her arms. Pain and weariness washed over her. Innistrad was safe. The Gatewatch was in her debt. Finally, time to rest.

Liliana glanced at the other Planeswalkers; the exhaustion clear on their faces, too. She sighed.

“Well. Would you like to stay at my manor for a night or two?” She balled her fist. Be smart, Lili. 

Gideon raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

She smiled thinly. “Yes.”

“But--”

“Gids, don’t be a jerk. I’m exhausted,” Chandra interjected. “Yes, we’d love to.”

Nissa looked around. “Wait, where’s Jace?”

Liliana crossed her arms. “He knows how to get there. He’ll find his way. Now. . . Do you see a carriage anywhere?”

Amidst the fire and ash, blood and bodies, they managed to find a carriage and enough horse corpses to reanimate and take them far from Thraben. Around them, humans and vampires, even a few angels and geists, comforted one another. Thalia and her Cathars worked to find the wounded and provide a modicum of safety.

It was rickety but it would roll, and so the Planeswalkers piled in, Liliana and Chandra on one side, Gideon and Nissa on the other. 

Nissa stared out the window, marveling at Innistrad’s landscape. What had it looked like before Emrakul’s arrival. How could death pervade and life persist?

Gideon sat with arms crossed, steely stare fixed on Liliana. He didn’t trust her. Well, he trusted her enough to go to her house. And she had helped to save the Gatewatch, Thraben, and Innistrad. And Jace seemed to. . .like her? Trust her? Something her. But he didn’t trust her.

Chandra slept, her head resting on Liliana’s shoulder. Liliana paid no mind, half lost in her own thoughts, half making sure her zombie horses didn’t get lost.

The moon cast long shadows as the group finally arrived. The manor looked foreboding but whole. 

“Wha-whazzit? Need me burn sumthin?” Chandra asked as Liliana shook her awake.

“We’ve arrived, my dear. You can go back to sleep in a moment.” Liliana allowed herself a true smile, for just a moment; finally, home, control. 

“Just up the steps here,” she said, almost to herself, leading the others. Back in power. She could be kind. She should encourage these relationships, just a little.


	2. 2.

The exterior looked dark and derelict, but inside, Liliana’s home was beautiful, tasteful, a little warmer than expected. Rich tapestries lined the walls, chandeliers glittered from the ceiling. The other Planeswalkers gaped.

Liliana exhaled, then clapped her hands together. “Yes, my great hall is quite impressive. But I have a little parlor and guest quarters this way. You can change and join me for tea, if you like.” She led them down a side hallway to a small room appointed with plush couches and chairs, books, tasteful object d’art. One doorway led to a small kitchen, another to a set of stairs. She pointed to the stairs. “There are guest rooms up those stairs. There’s a cupboard in the hallway with linens and some extra clothes too. Servants’ things, mainly. Help yourselves.” She grimaced ever so slightly. “I’m going to change and then I’ll be back.” Before the others could say anything she turned on her heel and strode away.

Gideon, Chandra, and Nissa looked at each other. 

“All these years and I’m still surprised by where the multiverse takes me,” Gideon muttered.

Nissa looked from wall to wall. “Innistrad is strange. This house even stranger.”

“It’s a normal house,” Chandra said, perplexed.

Gideon and Nissa just nodded.

“Well,” Nissa said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Tea sounds good, and getting out of these clothes sounds better. Let’s brave the second floor.” Gideon and Chandra followed.


	3. 3.

As she entered the first room, Nissa let out a long breath. She could see the a sliver of silver moon through the window. The landscape beneath was dotted with twisted trees and shadows. She looked around the room, hoping for a plant or a vase of flowers. She went to the window, breathing in the sharp air of chill and smoke and animals and horrors. Nissa closed her eyes and reached out to the land, hoping to comfort and be comforted. The mana pumped like blood and slowly pumped Emrakul’s poison away. She allowed herself a smile.

In the middle room, Chandra removed her goggles and ran her hand through her hair. The bed looked inviting, especially after so many recent nights spent camped out on cold, stony ground. But her stomach growled. Killing monsters really took it out of her. She let out a happy groan as she unbuckled her armor and chainmail and let the pieces drop to the floor with a satisfying thud. Chandra unwrapped the red fabric from her waist, the dupatta, and shook it out. More tentacles than she expected fell to the floor with a frightening squelch. A little fire stopped their wriggling. Chandra wrapped the dupatta around her body the way she wore it sometimes as a kid, around the waist, a few pleats, diagonal across the upper body and tied around the chest. Goggles in place, she was ready to find some food.

Gideon found himself at a loss. Battling Eldrazi, that he could handle, but staying in a necromancer’s house, getting comfortable in her guest room? What was the correct way to approach this situation? The whole thing had him on the defensive. He caught sight of his reflection in a small mirror, and shrugged. He carefully stowed his weapons and armor and changed into a tunic and leggings from Liliana’s cupboard. For days, weeks, months, he had worried about soldiers, civilians, cities, planes. For a few hours, he would just let all worry go.

In her suite, Liliana washed the blood and gore from her skin. Typical Innistrad. What wasn’t typical was having so many people -- living people -- in her house. Was it wise to have all of these do-gooders here? She combed her hair. Just part of gaining their trust so she could use their help, use them, to defeat her demon lords. Spending time with warm bodies for a few days might even be fun. Zombies aren’t particularly good conversationalists. And zombies could fulfill many of her desires, but not all of them. She slipped into her silk robe and took a breath. Battling Eldrazi was hard, faking friendship would be harder.


	4. 4.

Nissa unbraided her hair, sighing at the slight pain, sighing at the bits of leaves, bits of dried blood, bits of bone, bits of horror, that dropped to the floor. Her head hurt, the physical pain of her hair so long braided, the physical pain of exhaustion and dehydration, the psychological pain of. . . just this. This for so long. She ran her fingers through her hair and hoped the falling muck was a metaphor. Let it all fall away. 

The stone floor was cold, so she left her boots but kept her socks. If Liliana wasn’t a friend, she was an ally, so Nissa left her staff propped against the wall. But because Liliana wasn’t a friend, Nissa kept a small dagger tucked her hip. A dagger couldn’t ward of a necromancer, but it could make Nissa feel safer if not be safer.

In the hallway outside the guest rooms, a cupboard, a side table, an empty vase. Tapestries here, too, as elsewhere in the manor. Nissa hadn’t seen anything like these on Zendikar. Maybe Lorwyn? Such elaborate pieces of cloth, just to hang on a wall. She realized they told a story, and followed the narrative down the hall: unicorn, unicorn and girl, dead unicorn, zombie unicorn and girl. Nissa grimaced.

She felt the swirls of black mana as she walked down the stairs. So strong on this plane, but it wasn’t unpleasant, exactly. The thrill of existence was part of the mana stream. It tugged at her nerves, a reminder it was there. The mana sparked a long buried memory, her time on Lorwyn, experimenting with black magic. She felt that she should shudder or push the memory away, but the truth--and recent events had forced her to confront so many truths--but the truth was she had longed to return to her experiments, to learning more about all kinds of magic. The green magic that connected her to a plane connected her to other kinds of mana, as well.

Ah, the parlor. The wall by the stairs had a small window with an overstuffed chair and a side table of dark wood next to it. A circle of chairs and settees formed a circle in the center of the room, with various low tables besides. Book cases lined the far wall, more dark wood. Many of the books’ spines were broken or torn. A few shelves were given over to delicate glass figures, sculptures of plants and animals. The glass glowed with swirls of color, glints of exotic stones like stars. 

Nissa walked through the doorway into the small attached kitchen. The parlor had been warm woods and leathers, but the kitchen was stark, white gleaming stone. A kitchen for one, not the grand kitchen of a grand manor. Nissa had worried the kitchen might look like a witch’s, with bubbling body parts and jars of horrible-smelling liquid. But the jars and canisters were neatly labeled in an elegant scrawl. She found one labeled “Gavonian tea.” She opened the lid; it smelled lovely. She closed her eyes and cast a spell to ensure it was actually tea and not actually poison. Tea.

She found a pot, filled it at the water pump, and set it to heat on the stove. She had started scanning the shelves for food when she heard heavy footsteps. She froze for a moment, until she realized it was Gideon. Nissa rested her hands on a counter and took a deep breath. A new battle ahead: interacting with people.


	5. 5.

Gideon neatly stowed his armor and gear; cleaned his sword and shield and sural. He was, he had to admit, happy to put them down. Happy they did not need to be within arm’s reach because of a surprise attack. Surprise attack by eldrazi, anyway. 

He took a few moments to run through a series of stretches he had learned long ago, trying to work out the aches and knots. But the deepest one he couldn’t reach; he couldn’t shake the-- nightmare? Vision?-- shown to him by Emrakul. He had vowed to stand watch, but he worried he’d have to watch his friends, all he cared for, be destroyed. 

He shook his head. Don’t be so melodramatic, Gids. His stomach growled; that was a command he was happy to follow.

Gideon paused outside his door, scoping out the hallway. Short; just the three bedrooms and the cupboard. Only one set of stairs. No windows. Tapestries close to the wall; impossible for anything to hide behind, other than spiders. But something pulled at the short hairs on his neck. Something was in the hallway with him. He turned to his right, peering into the gloom at the end of the hallway. Just normal shadows. Ah, a dusty suit of armor.

Gideon was already laughing at himself, thinking the suit a threat, when he realize the suit had eyes. Dull, but alive. No, not alive. 

He crept closer and the eyes watched. Zombie.

But it didn’t move as he approached, it didn’t even make any noise. Just a guard. A warning, perhaps. 

“I will be glad to move on,” Gideon muttered. He quickly hurried down the stairs, moving briskly through the parlor. He wanted to know little about the knick knacks Liliana collected or the books she read. She was as ineffable as the eldrazi. He didn’t want to know what books they read, either.

He found Nissa in the kitchen, stopped over the stove. Her hair was loose and long, accentuating her simple tunic. 

“Find anything to eat?” he asked.

She turned to him, smiling tiredly. “I stopped when I found the tea.”

“Alright,” he nodded. “Let me see.” He rummaged through shelves and cupboards, pulling out bread, cheese, vegetables. A box kept cold by magic contained meat. Soon a pan was on the stove as Gideon prepared pan roasted chicken and green beans, piles of other things waiting to be slices and served.

A change in temperature made him turn to the doorway. He paused, as the skillet sizzled, mesmerized by Chandra.


	6. 6.

Chandra stood before a round mirror, adjusting and readjusting the dupatta wrapped around her body. A fight made her blood hum; a battle set her veins on fire. Knowing she had helped conquer these monsters made her nerves buzz. Electricity raced beneath her skin, and her breath was shallow.  
How to release all of this buildup, the tension?

She lay back on the four-poster bed, legs hanging off the bed, one foot gently kicking the bed curtains. Left arm under her head, right arm at her side. The canopy was dark swirls of brown and red. She created a small plume of smoke, sent it to the ceiling. Love, death, violence, sex, an unending cycle. And she always told herself, today would be the day to step off the cycle, but the next part always pulled her back. 

She enjoyed the cycle, anyway. Chandra loved deeply, grieved intensely, fought hard, and fucked passionately. To love, to grieve, to fight, to fuck, that’s what it meant to be alive.

Chandra closed her eyes and loosened the fabric at her waist. Her hand slipped in. She sighed as she found her clitoris. She thought of the mountains surrounding Keral Keep, beautiful, peaceful, home. She thought about another pyromancer who had studied there, Sela, dark brown curls and always with a laugh on her lips. But her thoughts then turned to her body, to focusing on the moment.

She touched herself slowly, enjoying the feel of fingers on flesh, of folds and crests. A slow tease for impatient Chandra. A dip into her slip, just a fingertip, then back, lazy circles around her vulva, gradually faster, gradually focusing on her clit. 

Fire, blood, impatience, all grew, and Chandra thought again about Sela. Sela specialized in electricity, and Sela had taught her how to create just a small spark, how to focus that spark, how to center that spark. Chandra centered that spark now, pressing firmly and sending waves of pleasure through her body. Small, but growing, waves of electricity and adrenaline. Finger still moving, still focused. She gasped and came and finally the tension released.

She breathed deeply, slowly, the fire quenched. She rose, rearranged her clothes yet again, ran a hand through her hair. Time for food.

In the hallway, she noticed a candle had burned out in one of the lanterns. Her legs still shaky, she gently removed the lantern from its hook, opened the glass door and relit the candle. As she replaced it, she realized something was rubbing her ankles: a gray tabby cat. 

“Hey Billee,” she said; “Billee” a common name for cats on Kaladesh. “Let’s find something to eat, huh?”

She followed the clattering of pans down the stairs, but once in the parlor, she paused at a bookshelf. Billee at her feet, she pulled out a book. A cookbook, but the dishes seemed familiar. She flipped through the pages. 

And that was how Gideon found her, flushed cheeks, soft smile, tumbling hair, wrapped in a minimum of fabric.


	7. 7.

Though silent, Liliana’s entrance was still grand. The skirt of her new, clean gown of white silk and black embroidery flowed streamed behind her. Comfortable, but still beautiful, still something to envy. She surveyed the little room, listening to the clattering of pans from the kitchen, observing Gideon observing Chandra. How long had it been since her manor had been full of life?

“Didn’t they teach you it’s rude to stare?” she asked, eliciting a “huh?” from a Chandra and a blush from Gideon. He retreated to the kitchen. Liliana smiled, then crouched down. “I see you’ve met Seraphina.” She held out her hand and the cat came running.

“I always figured you’d have, like, a pet zombie bat,” Chandra said. 

Liliana gave the cat one last pat, then stood. “Well, it’s nice to have another being around that can think for itself. And keeps the mice and rats from eating too many of my servants.”

“Some food and drink,” Nissa announced as she and Gideon brought forth trays piled with soup, bread, meat, cheese, and more. Liliana fetched a bottle of wine while Chandra stretched out on the couch. 

The Planeswalkers grabbed food and ate in an exhausted silence. A pounding at the door jolted them from their sleepy reverie. Liliana sighed. “Jace.”


	8. 8.

In Liliana’s wake, the other Planeswalkers just stared at each other.

“Sooooo. . . .what’s the deal with those two?” Chandra asked.

“I was hoping you’d know,” Gideon replied. 

Nissa sipped her tea. “The only thing I know is that nothing is ever as it seems.”

***  
Liliana met Jace at the door. “Wasn’t sure you would join us.”

“I wasn’t sure either. But after talking with Tamiyo, I need to talk to the rest of the Gatewatch. And you, too.”

“I swore an oath! I’m part of this too.”

Jace sighed.

“Come in, relax, the other do-gooders made some food.”

His shoulders sagged. Now that he had stopped moving, he could think and worse, remember.

She took his hand. “Let me take your cloak, come to my chambers, get cleaned up. I think I see some vestige of Emrakul here on your shoulder--”

He jerked away, back against the door, feeling trapped. “Goddamit Liliana, you compared me to a dog, and you expect everything to be fine now? To be some sort of normal?”

Liliana straightened up, crossed her arms. “You were acting irrational, succumbing the madness consuming the rest of Innistrad. I had to say something to snap you out of it.”

He didn’t have an answer.

She leaned in close, whispering. “And if you are a pet, you are still mine. Does that mean I don’t love you?”

He held her gaze, looking for truth in those violet eyes, in those violent thoughts. And for a moment, Liliana let him, let him see the churning thoughts, the pride, the fear, the confidence, and yes, the love.

“Alright, Lili. Alright. I could use some food.”

Liliana put herself back together and led the way.


	9. 9.

After the horrors of Thraben, after the terror of a conversation with Tamiyo, after the gloom of Innistrad, Jace was genuinely surprised at the normalcy before him: Nissa leaning back in a chair, smiling and sipping tea from an elegant cup; Chandra stretched out on a settee, her feet in Gideon’s lap; Gideon, with a slight blush and shoulders relaxed.

“Please, take a seat,” Liliana said, gesturing. 

“And some food!” Nissa added.

“Are you alright?” Gideon asked. 

Jace sat heavily in the chair opposite Nissa, undoing the clasps at his throat. He was loathe to disrupt everyone’s peace, but the battle was not yet finished. He sighed.

“I spoke with Tamiyo. She’s left. I don’t know where she went. We talked about. . .about encountering Emrakul.” A shudder went through the others as they thought about the -- visions? regrets? nightmares? -- Emrakul had so kindly shared. “Emrakul. . .Emrakul was imprisoned in the moon because she allowed it.”

Nissa leaned forward. “Allowed it? But Tamiyo and I--”

Jace shook his head. “Tamiyo said the spell wasn’t her own, the spell was Emrakul’s.”

“Does that mean Emrakul will come back?” Chandra asked, pulling her knees into her chest.

Jace frowned. “I think so, yes. She told me when the time is right.”

“Tamiyo told you that?” Nissa asked.

He shook his head. “Emrakul.”

“Nothing remains buried in the multiverse,” the necromancer pointed out. 

“We will keep watch, for Emrakul, for anything else,” Gideon said firmly. 

They sat in silence, thinking about the enormity of watching the entire multiverse. 

“Does. . .did Tamiyo have any idea about how Emrakul got here?” Nissa asked softly. 

“Well,” Jace began, but Liliana interrupted.

“A Planeswalker named Nahiri brought Emrakul here.”

“Nahiri?!”

“When I last saw the vampires, they were preparing for war against her.”

“Do you know Nahiri?” Gideon asked Nissa.

Nissa swallowed here. “She’s from Zendikar. She set up the hedrons originally. I can’t believe. . . I can’t believe she would bring an Eldrazi to another plane.”

“You’d do anything to save Zendikar, right?” Liliana asked diplomatically. 

Nissa wanted to say anything but that, but she wasn’t entirely sure it was the truth.

“Well, what’s next?” Chandra asked, stretching out again as she broke the heaviness. “We just go our separate ways and keep watch that way? I do have a monastery waiting for me.”

“We Planeswalkers are a solitary breed,” Liliana said.

“Some quiet and space to think would be nice,” Jace sighed. 

Liliana grimaced. “You, you can. . . you can all stay here. For just a few days. Get some rest.”

Jace raised a brow. “Really, Lili?”

She studied her nails. “Don’t question it or I’ll rescind it.”

“Well, thank you.”


	10. 10.

Nissa crossed her legs in her chair, shifting her weight from side to side. Was it an itch she felt? She was used to the hum of leylines, of the flow of mana. Like Zendikar, she could feel Innistrad’s sickness, the infection running along the leylines. ANd she could feel the infection slipping away, passing away into the Blind Eternities. Already, new roots took hold, and leaves reached for the moon. Did they strain for its silver light, or did Emrakul pull them yet?

She wilted with weariness. How could the others keep going? Still talking, still arguing, still fighting. The manor’s stone walls felt as a coffin. She closed her eyes, and pulled on the hope left in the leylines, on the moss and mold in the cracks of the house’s stones and floorboards. Nissa opened her eyes: a small bouquet bloomed in her palms.

“You feeling okay, Nissa?” Chandra asked.

“Tired.”

Chandra scrambled to her knees, leaning over Gideon’s lap, a knee in his thigh. “What the--”

Chandra reached over the arm of the couch. She took a breath and a small sun appeared above Nissa’s flowers. The blooms swelled.

Liliana snapped her fingers, and sun and flowers withered. “Perhaps we should go to bed, then?”

Chandra leaned back on her heels. “Awwww.”

Gideon ran a hand through his hair. “Bed sounds like a good idea.”

“Leave the dishes. You may use this room and the kitchen, but don’t go anywhere else in the manor. I’d hate for anyone to stumble across my little. . . projects.”

Nissa gratefully headed for the stairs, Gideon and Chandra behind. As Jace rose, Liliana grabbed his arm, nodding her head toward her own chambers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3.17.18 Fixed a huuuuge typo in the final sentence. Freudian slip maybe?


	11. 11.

Nissa stuck her head out of the window, looking not at the ground but at the moon for signs of life. “Nahiri,” she whispered. She couldn’t even tell if she was angry or sad or happy. “Nahiri, Zendikar is safe.” Nissa frowned. “Innistrad is safe, too. Don’t try to destroy any more planes.” 

She shook her head. Nahiri, of course, was a centuries old Planeswalker, not a child. She understood the desire for revenge, but cause the death of so many innocents was not the way. Though she understood that desire for revenge. Nissa looked to the moon again, sighed. Because Nahiri pulled Emrakul away, the Gatewatch had been able to stop the other titans. Would they have been able to kill all three? At least the Multiverse was safe for now. 

She caught sight of one of the twisted trees, a cryptolith. She reached out to the mana of the plane, to the twisted tree, to the Blind Eternities. “Nahiri.” Nissa felt the twisting mana of the plane, the decay and blood; this was a strange place long before Emrakul. How she longed for home. No. Nostalgia. The home of her youth, of green and life. “Go home, Nahiri. Help Zendikar heal.”

Nissa closed her eyes, sighed, turned away from the window. Time for bed, time for a respite from Eldrazi. She searched for the leylines of the land, taking comfort in the gentleness of the night, of madness turning to sanity, of wild things sleeping. She looked for green oases and nestled in the quiet spots. She looked for a home in this strange plane. 

But the leylines led her back to Vess Manor, to the beings inside, to the blood and breath of the other Planeswalkers. Nissa searched her memory, finding fragments of a kor worshipped as a prophet of Talib. Whispers of ancient gods who turned out to be monsters. What had Nahiri known? What had been forgotten?

And suddenly Nissa realized she did not want to return home. What else was to be found in the Multiverse? She traced those leylines again to the other Planeswalkers, to her friends, catching glimpses of far away worlds, the heat of Kaladesh, the beauty of Theros, the war of Vryn. 

“I am part of the Multiverse, the Multiverse is part of me. I am home.”


	12. 12.

Gideon paused at Chandra’s door. “Chandra, would you. . .”

She raised an eyebrow. “Would I. . . ?”

“Would you come sit with me for a little bit?”

She was about to laugh, but managed to stifle it when she saw how earnest he looked. “Sure, Gids, sure.”

She lounged on the floor while he sat uncomfortably on the bed. He tried to collect his thoughts. They both thought about the last time they were this close, on the dark plane of Diraden. Their respective need for order and chaos, strength and agility, proving to balance each other. Gideon had held her then, a bright red star on that plane of black mana, held her as she tossed in the night, beset by bad dreams and memories. Chandra, had let herself think, for just a moment, that she might forge a connection with Gideon. But despite her red alignment, her passion, she knew better than to truly love anyone, and was glad whatever possible romance had been interrupted. She loved freedom, jokes, silly nicknames, sex. Not people.

“When we. . .so, that time. . .how. . . .”

Chandra leaned back on her elbows, crossed her ankles. After the horrors of Zendikar, some fun might be nice. It was fun to make them ask, to beg, a little. 

“Do you still have nightmares, Chandra?”

She laughed a little; this was not the question she expected. The wrong kind of closeness. She sat up.

“Yes, I do. I had thought that going through the Purifying Fire would be my big moment, and everything would be forgiven and I’d move on and maybe never be sad again.” She laughed a little at herself. “And I still think, okay, if I can do this, you know, fight the bad guy or whatever, then I won’t be so sad or have nightmares or whatever.”

Gideon nodded. Chandra leaned back onto her elbows again.

“How do you deal with it?”

“Well,” a well-timed yawn, “exhaustion helps. You havin’ nightmares, Gids?”

He shifted his weight, crossed his legs. “Not exactly. But I keep thinking about. . .when Emrakul had us trapped, basically, it was like a nightmare. Didn’t that happen for you?”

Chandra smiled darkly. “Nah, it was just fire. That’s what I normally think about anyway.” The fire that consumed her parents, anyway. “I mean, I guess it wasn’t too different from my normal nightmares, so yes it was a nightmare, but. . . .” She shrugged as she trailed off.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in a nightmare, but I’m awake,” he said, staring off into space.

Chandra nodded.

“Of course, considering how much time we spend fighting Eldrazi, that’s basically a waking nightmare.”

“Maybe you’ll get to wake up now, Gids.”

“Maybe you’ll get to wake up sometime soon, too.”

She chuckled. “What did you see? It’s clearly on your mind.”

He tried to speak, tried to think of ways to safely share his terror. “Failure. Weakness.”

It was late, so she decided on sincerity. “That’s what we all fear.”

“I suppose so.”

She got up, crossed the short distance to the bed. “Lay down.”

“What?”

She jerked her head towards the bed. “Lay down.”

He obeyed. She lay next to him, cradling him, returning a favor -- small favor, not a life-and-death favor -- from Diraden. “You’ve been strong for a long time, Gids. It’s alright.”

He closed his eyes.


	13. 13

Chandra was a furnace, always burning, only the fuel differed. After so much destruction, she burned with the joy of being alive, of the act of creation. She held Gideon in her arms and felt the heat from his skin; placid, orderly Gideon must have his passions, too. His arm curled around her back, holding her close. She could feel his fingertips on her back. Indeed, she was acutely aware of everything: the fabric wrapped around her body, the soft bed beneath her, the gentle hum of the wind outside, the shine of the silver moon .

She wanted to be good, she did, but she could not help the fire burning inside her, and she arched her back, rubbing ever so slightly against Gideon. Not quenching, but stoking.

 

His voice broke her reverie: “Chandra, do you ever think about the future?” She could not tell if he was admonishing her or asking a genuine question.

“No.” She could elaborate, she could expound on her theories of how the present shapes the future and as long as everyone can live free, the future will take care of itself. That the future and the past are the same, families and friends to care for, villains to defeat, adventure. But “no” seemed easier.

Gideon’s arm tightened around her, pulling her closer.”Do you think about the future, Gids?”

He buried his head into her shoulder. “I can’t stop.”

Her arm lay across his stomach; she stroked his side and hip. “What do you think about right now?” She arched her back again, draped her leg over his, her dupatta slowly starting to fall away from her body.

“I, uh,” he stammered, at a loss, unable to keep the flames at bay. 

She did not beg and did not like for others to beg. She tightened her grip, arching, pulling his head in close, and kissed him. He was not surprised and he did not resist but was drawn to the flame, leaning in, one hand at her back, one at her hip.

Chandra paused for a moment, swiftly undoing the knots that held her dupatta, now just a pool of fabric. He kissed her neck as she slid a hand beneath his shirt, the soft linen contrasting with the hard lines of muscle.

Gideon shifted, so they now lay side-to-side, face-to-face. The flames would consume him, and in some ways Chandra was more frightening than Eldrazi, than vampires, werewolves, demons, and hordes of undead. Ultimately they could be contained. Chandra could not. 

“Gideon, come back,” she teased. She ran her hand through his hair, down his cheek, pulling him close.


	14. 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit sex, m/f (Chandra x Gideon)

Chandra was not selfish. Impulsive, destructive, but not selfish. She burned with a desire to fight, to change, to create, to take apart and put together. Not selfish, but used to being by herself. Alone in a small room at Keral Keep, in a small cell in Dhund prison, a small bedroom at home. She didn’t have to think when she set things on fire.

Even though she was volatile by nature, it was nice not to be alone. Not only was someone in the next room or down in the kitchen, but someone as beside her. Here. 

Gideon’s eyes were closed as Chandra curled around him. The softness of the sheets contrasted with the firmness of his muscles. Despite his size, he fit perfectly in the curve of her arms. The warmth of his skin, his breath on her breasts, was a contrast to the crisp linens of the bed, the cold stone of the walls, the piles of dead on Innistrad, on Zendikar, and beyond. 

She was not selfish, she would always fight for the weak and against the corrupt. But she rarely let herself love. Love led to fire, the bad kind of fire, the smell of singed flesh and the sound of screams, not of an enemy but of the innocent. Love meant you couldn’t leave, and if you did leave, part of you was left behind forever. 

So no, she didn’t love Gideon. But she had known him for a long time, longer than nearly anyone else. Had seen his strength and compassion. His anger and determination. He had chased her, fought her, disagreed with her, but also saved her. That’s pretty close to love. Love adjacent.

And definitely lust adjacent. Of course she had thought about the ripple of those muscles, how his body would feel beneath her hands, his lips against her lips. To sweat together in desire, not combat. To move as one in desire not fear.

She sighed and arched her back ever so slightly, rubbing against his thigh, ever so slightly. Her hands balled into fists so she wouldn’t absent-mindedly caress him. She didn’t love him, of course, but she was worried of ruining whatever nice thing this was.

“Is everything okay, Chandra?” he asked.

She forced a laugh. “Yup yup. Just trying to, you know, be polite, and keep my hands to myself.”

“But you’re spooning me.”

“Well. Yes.”

Now he laughed, and she could feel his movements against every part of her own body. He pressed even closer, slid a hand to her face, running his thumb down her jaw, pulled her close and kissed her. 

She moved in to the kiss, in to his body, twining her legs around his. Her hands unballed, moving through his hair, down his back, up his shirt. 

He broke off the kiss, pulled back ever so slightly. “Chandra,” he said softly, smiling. Soft moonlight streamed in through the windows, and he looked like a man, a handsome man, not a Planeswalker, not a Defender of Worlds. 

She smiled back. “Gideon.” And the light inside her was not the fire of destruction, of burning regrets to ash, but of youth, of delight. She was not an abbot or lost daughter, but a woman. 

Chandra went in for a kiss again, lightly running her nails down his back. Gideon slid his hand to her breasts, feeling their swell beneath the thin dupatta, teasing her nipples with a thumb. She sighed happily in response, and rolled her hips against him. 

Her own hands moved to his waist, to tease him there. She traced the curve of muscle, the plain of bone. 

His lips moved to her neck, sweetly kissing down from lobe to shoulder, then back up again. His right arm, trapped beneath her body, held her close. His left hand slid from breasts to ribs to waist to ass, cupping and squeezing. 

Chandra moaned but then abruptly sat up, surprising Gideon. She laughed again as she reached behind her to undo the knots keeping her clothed. Gideon tried to assist, but she was more nimble, and soon the fabric was pooling on the bed. 

She had always had an air of prophecy about her. “Chandra”: shining one. “Chandra”: the moon. The glow of fire ever about her, the shine of moonlight on her skin. To shine and to draw others to you, whether you wanted them or not. She was radiant.

Gideon wondered how long it would take to count the freckles dotting her chest and arms. Would she let him have all that time. The bend of her legs hid the curve of her vulva, but her breasts glowed in the moonlight, the peaked nipples seeming to beg for a flick or tweak.

She raise an eyebrow and jokingly wagged a figure. “It’s rude to stare.”

He decided, again, to be sincere. “You are so beautiful.”

Chandra laughed again. She knew that. “Yes. And how about you?” She gestured to his body, still encased in all that fabric. But Gideon was slow, poor Gids, a brain for strategy but not for. . . other things. But that body was for war and peace. She tugged at the hem of his shirt and finally he understood. In one fluid motion, he pulled it over his head and threw it to the floor. He was beautiful, too, his skin golden in the silver moonlight, the tight muscle leading to a thing trail of hair leading to parts unknown.

She reached out to run a hand over his pecs, tweaking his own nipples, the dark areolas crinkling slightly at her fingertips. Then down his stomach, and an exploratory finger beneath his waistband. You need to stoke a fire to keep it hot.

He grabbed her, enveloping her in his arms, kissing her fiercely. She laughed and kissed him back. Soon he was on top of her, trying to kiss her, to touch her, to remove his own pants, to kick away bed sheets. 

Chandra broke a kiss, turning her head to one side. “Focus, soldier!”

Gideon paused, then allowed a small laugh. “But everything is a top priority, sir.” Still, he managed to first remove the sheets, then his pants. Those tasks complete, he lowered himself, cradling her head with one hand, tracing her side and hip with the other. 

She could feel his erection at her stomach, could feel her own wetness. She reached between their bodies, lightly brushing his cock on her way to her clit. He shuddered slightly and moaned in her ear. She responded by grinding against him. 

As he gently took a nipple into his mouth, Chandra tried to concentrate on a spell, of light electricity. Fun on its own, but when combined with another body, the ecstasy was magnified. She moaned, enjoying Gideon’s light nips on her nipple and the feel of her own fingers working her clit back and forth. 

Gideon, of course, loved symmetry and planned to move on to the other breast. But Chandra’s squirms were too sexy. He shifted his weight to his left side, propped on an elbow. His right hand teased at her curls, circling her mound. She grabbed his and and guided it to her clit, demonstrating how she liked to be touched. Chandra placed her hands behind her head and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensations, particularly of not being alone.

He stroked her clit, listening to her moans to figure out the right pattern, the right speed, how hard, how soft. But he could not resist and occasionally slipped a finger along her pussy, feeling her slickness, feeling her hips buck. She had said to focus, but he continued his handiwork while returning to her breasts. A light lick, a light suck, a light bit; these actions awakened her nerves, a connection from brain to breast to clit. She rocked her hips slightly, trying to get just the right amount of pressure.

His left arm was tiring from his weight. He settled down, still stroking Chandra, kissing her neck and nipping her earlobe. Her moans settled deep in the pit of Gideon’s stomach. He had been captivated by her beauty since first laying eyes on her on Regatha, but their time together, on Diraden, Zendikar, here, elsewhere, had revealed something else. She was chaos and emotion and impulse. She was Chandra. 

Her breath quickened as she moaned softly. “Oh, Gideon.”

“Oh Chandra,” he whispered back. “Come for me, Chandra.”

Another moan and finally release. She cried aloud as she came, shuddering against Gideon, her breath ragged. He slowed his fingers as she slowly came down. She smiled up at him through heavily lidded eyes. Her breathing slowly returned to normal as he traced his fingers up her belly.

She took a moment to stretch, fingers extended, toes pointed. She grabbed Gideon, pulling him to her, over her. He slid his knee between her legs and she happily opened them wider. He ran his hands through her hair as he ground against her. 

“Is this okay?” he asked. He wasn’t sure what “this” was, sex, lovemaking, friendship, something else. He couldn’t really be sure of anything, but if Chandra said okay, it would be okay. 

“Yes,” she said, nodding and pressing against him. 

He slid his cock against her, teasing her, enjoying her squirming. He was debating tactics, the ratio of teasing her more versus entering her, when he realized he was already slowly slipping in. Inch by inch, engulfed by the heat of her pussy, her body, her.

Gideon moaned as he sank in. Chandra shifted to wrap her legs around his back. He looked down at Chandra, caught her eye, her smile. He thrust and once he started, he couldn’t stop, her panting spurring him on. She rocked with him, could feel him tense. 

“Oh Chandra!” he cried as he came, using his last bit of willpower to stay up and not crush her. 

She relaxed her legs and moved to one side of the bed as he gratefully fell to the other. Gideon smiled at her as he stretched out on his right side. He wanted to say something but as at a loss for words. 

Chandra, on her left side, stretched her legs again. She placed her right hand on the bed between them and Gideon took it in his own. He squeezed tightly.

“Sweet dreams, Gideon.”

“Sweet dreams.”


	15. 15.

Liliana and Jace stood in the parlor, her hand around his wrist. A scene that had played out a million times already, would play out a million times more. He knew better than to try to peer in to her mind and yet, as always, he wondered just what was going on in there. Liliana was so inscrutable yet always clear.

The cat curled up on the now empty couch.

“Come to bed, Jace,” Liliana said, a command, not a request.

He sighed. “Liliana. After everything that’s just happened. . .”

She offered a small smile. “All the more reason. Gideon interrupted us on Ravnica. Insanity interrupted us here. But now we are here, alone, and presumably sane.”

Should he laugh? Was that a joke? “Yes, I am fine. But after an experience like that, I can’t just-” 

She released the grip on his arm and laced her fingers through his. “You have followed those do-gooders, been selfless, saved the world. Now, it’s just us.” Liliana leaned in and kissed him. He hadn’t realized how tense he had been until he felt her lips. He slipped his hand from hers, instead taking her into his arms, grateful for a moment of normalcy. 

Liliana broke the kiss first, her hands resting on his hips. “You are a good man, Jace. But I know who you really are in a way they don’t. And so. Let’s go to bed.”

This time he followed her without a word.


End file.
